


Plausible Deniability

by Quickspinner



Series: Sprint Fic Challenge [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: “You’re the best,” he giggled. “I love you.”Marinette rolled her eyes. “Tell me that when you’re sober.”“I did,” Luka snorted, and then laughed his drunk laugh again. “You avoided me for weeks. 'Sides, I'm drunk. I can say anything I want and we can just laugh it off in the morning."Written for the 10/28/2020 LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Sprint Fic Challenge [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904854
Comments: 12
Kudos: 193
Collections: LBSCSprintFicChallenge





	Plausible Deniability

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo technically this was a fail for the challenge, because I only got the bones down during the 3 allotted sprints, and then I more than doubled the length in "editing." I'm not sorry though, because the story needed it. I love that failing the challenge still means getting a good fic. 😅
> 
> Read more about the Sprint Fic Challenge [here](https://lovebugs-and-snakecharmers.tumblr.com/tagged/lbsc%20sprint%20fic%20challenge)! Challenges happen on the 2nd and 4th Wednesday of every month and anyone is welcome to join in.
> 
> The prompt was:  
> "I love you."  
> "Tell me that when you're sober."

“She’s trouble in a tank top pretty little time bomb, blowing up, take you down,” Luka sang loudly, causing heads to turn towards them on the street. Marinette hushed him, and he obligingly dropped to a hum. 

Marinette gritted her teeth, adjusted Luka’s arm over her shoulders, and reminded herself that she had signed up for this. Had, in fact, assured Luka over and over that she didn’t mind and that he deserved to relax and celebrate, and _just drink your shots, already, Luka I’ll make sure you get home safe._ All of Luka’s friends were ecstatic for him and everyone wanted to buy him a drink, so Marinette had stood her self-appointed duty, making sure he had enough water and pacing things out so that when he staggered out of the bar at the end of the night, leaning heavily on her, he was still moving mostly under his own power, though he was certainly feeling no pain. 

Drunk Luka was _chatty_ , though, and all the thoughts that normally stayed in his head seemed to just pour out of his mouth at random (along with, apparently, every song he’d ever heard or written).

“Snakebite heart, and a bubblegum smile,” he sang, fortunately at a more reasonable volume this time. 

“You’re so ridiculous,” Marinette grumbled, but there was fondness in it. 

“You’re the best,” he giggled. “I love you.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

“I did,” Luka snorted, and then laughed his drunk laugh again. “You avoided me for weeks.”

Marinette winced and bit her lip. She hadn’t been thinking about it when she said it. It was a reflexive response at this point, something she said to all her babbling drunk friends when she saw them home at the end of the night (Nino in particular was an ‘I love you, man!’ kind of drunk). She was used to this role, though it was the first time she’d done it for Luka. It hadn’t occurred to her until just then that her usual quip might hit a little differently with him. 

“Ma’nette.” Luka leaned on her more heavily and nuzzled at her temple—sort of. Really he more just bonked their heads together. “S’okay. Don’t get all moody. S’funny.” 

“It’s not funny,” Marinette sighed. 

“Everything’s funny,” Luka grinned, and then started laughing again. Marinette just shook her head, and settled his arm a little more comfortably over her shoulders. “Sides. I’m drunk. I can say whatever I want and we can just laugh it off in the morning. You don't even have to run away this time.” He leaned his head on hers, which tilted the rest of his body towards her, and she staggered slightly under his weight. “You’re so beautiful. Just...all the time. Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

Marinette blushed hotly. “You’re drunk,” she muttered. 

“Yep,” he grinned, and then added, “Drunk but not a liar.” He kissed the top of her head before straightening. Sort of. He took some of his weight off her, at least.

Luka sighed dreamily. “S’been years since then, right? An’ the first time was years before that.” He laughed. “God, I was such a dramatic little shit. _Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody_. You must have thought I was so stupid.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” Marinette replied quietly. 

Luka’s arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her against his side in a hug. “Aw, you’re so sweet. You’ve always been great that way. You get me, even when I’m dumb.” 

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, bumping him with her hip. “But come on, Luka, you got over all that a long time ago.”

Luka started to laugh so hard he nearly toppled over, and Marinette had to plant her feet and put all her weight into keeping him upright. When she did get him back onto his feet he was wiping away tears. 

“I am drunk as hell,” he chuckled, pulling his arm away.

“You really are,” Marinette agreed with a sigh.

He faced her, one hand curling behind her head. Marinette started slightly, out of surprise rather than fear, as he leaned toward her, his eyes unnaturally bright and liquor heavy on his breath. “I’m so drunk can tell you that I never got over you. That I’m still stupid in love with you and nobody ever makes me feel the way you do. You’re one in a million, Marinette. There’ll never be another girl as fascinating and brilliant and creative as you. I knew you were special from the second we met.” He grinned, one thumb gliding over her lower lip a little more roughly than he probably meant to. “And your lips make me think like a pervert. Also your ass is really cute.” He doubled over, giggling, his hands falling away from her as he started walking again. “You ever think about my ass?” he asked, rhetorically it seemed as without waiting for a reply, he tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. “Ugh, fuckin’ city lights. I miss the stars on the boat.” He started singing again, but casually, as if to himself, instead of belting it to the sky. “She’s outta control, so beautiful. I’ve been waiting so long, but she’ll never know…”

Marinette suddenly felt like she was reeling as much as Luka. She felt hot and cold all at once. She’d had no—

Well. That wasn’t true. She _had_ had an idea that he still felt that way, but she didn’t trust her own judgement, not after years and years of reading into things and making mountains out of molehills, and their friendship was so perfect, so precious, she hadn’t wanted to make things weird. But all this time... _oh, Luka..._

Luka’s lopsided path was taking him a little close to the street, so Marinette jogged a bit to catch up with his long legs, and slipped back under his arm. 

“There you are,” he sighed happily, leaning on her again. “I’m so glad you came back.” 

“Don’t I always?” she said, a little breathless from the revelation.

“Eventually,” he agreed. “Thank fuck for that. Don’t know what I’d do if I scared you off for good.” 

Marinette sighed, and put her arm around his waist. “Come on. Let’s just get you home.”

If she was quiet on the metro, he didn’t seem to notice, filling the silence with idle chatter and random drunken observations that earned them some amused glances from their fellow subway patrons. Marinette didn’t really pay attention, except to push him away when he buried his nose in the crook of her neck and murmured about how good she smelled. Not that she _minded_ , exactly, but she was still processing his drunken declarations and it was hard to think properly with her really attractive friend-and-maybe-more snuggling up on her. Luka had always craved touch (although not usually like _that_ ) and it didn’t really rattle her anymore, she just...really needed to think, and it was hard to do that when she was really kind of feeling like— 

“Our stop,” Luka muttered, and it embarrassed her that he was the one to notice. The fact that she was more distracted than he was drunk should have been disturbing. Luka sighed as she helped him get up, and leaned on her a little more heavily. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Tired.”

“I bet,” Marinette said, squeezing his waist lightly. “We’re almost there.” His chatter subsided into slightly off-key humming on the way up to his apartment, and she could see that now that the hilarity was fading, Luka was struggling to stay awake. He couldn’t even manage to stick on one song, humming in increasingly broken snippets. 

“All right,” she said, when they finally made it into his apartment. “Bed for you.”

“Bed sounds nice,” Luka agreed, as Marinette opened the door to his bedroom.

“I think you can make it from here,” Marinette said, slipping out from under his arm.

“Thanks, Nette,” he said, smiling down at her, and as she looked up at him her heartbeat quikened. She felt the flush in her cheeks, and looked away quickly, unconsciously licking her lips, before her eyes darted back to his again. 

Unfortunately for her, even drunk off his ass, he could read her like a book. 

“Are you gonna kiss me, Marinette?” Luka asked, leaning over her with one elbow on the doorway. “Cause I’m not opposed but like, I had plans for your birthday and they’ll be ruined if you’re avoiding me, so if you do you gotta cap your running away at three...no...wait, how many weeks?” He blinked, looking confused. “What day is it?”

Marinette swallowed hard, flooded with shame, her eyes stinging. Luka’s gaze snapped back to her, losing some of that vague expression. 

“Aw, Mari, don’t cry,” he sighed, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. ‘M so sorry. I’m such an idiot, you were never supposed to cry because of me.” He sighed, letting his forehead fall to rest against hers. “Sober me is gonna kick my own ass tomorrow for making you cry.” 

Marinette closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She’d never wanted to kiss him so badly, but it would be wrong while he was like this, and he’d trusted her to get him home safely. Luka would never take advantage of her this way and she wouldn’t do it to him, either. 

Instead she leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Luka relaxed into the hug, folding his arms around her and squeezing so tight it made her gasp. He moved to bury his face in her shoulder. “Love you,” he sighed. 

“Luka,” she whispered, and he grunted. “Tell me all that when you’re sober, okay? All the stuff you said to me tonight. Tell me again when you’re sober. Tomorrow, okay?” He grunted again, though she really wasn’t sure if he was hearing her. 

She gently pushed him back, and then took his face in her hands, and kissed his forehead tenderly. “Now go to bed. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” 

She knew he was already half asleep, because he didn’t protest her sleeping on the couch. He let her nudge him around, and took the three steps to his bed, and collapsed onto it. 

Marinette sighed, and followed him for just a moment to pull his shoes off and cover him with a blanket. He was snoring before she even closed his door. 

* * *

_You know just what to say  
_ _Shit that scares me_

He noticed the music first, before he was even fully awake. 

_I should just walk away but I can’t move my feet  
_ _The more that I know you the more that I want to_

He knew that song. 

He knew a lot of songs, really, but more importantly, he knew that voice. 

_Something inside me’s changed  
_ _I was so much younger yesterday_

The piping voice fell into place right about when he woke up enough to remember the night before. Luka groaned and pulled his covers over his head, wishing he could just curl up and die. He really did want to go back in time and kick drunk Luka’s ass. What had he been _thinking_ , getting that drunk and letting Marinette bring him home alone?

He was thinking that she’d put him in a taxi and send him off, naturally. Because he’d already been a couple drinks in, which was why he’d been hesitating over having more to begin with, and when Marinette had told him to enjoy himself and she’d make sure he got home safe, his logic brain had ceded control to his wishful thinking brain, or something. Because he’d just sold _three songs_ to one of the biggest artists in the country and his name was going to be on the album sleeve and the check had been more money than he’d ever seen in his life and when everyone told him he deserved to celebrate, he kinda wanted to believe them. In his right mind he would have known that Marinette would never just shove him into a cab. _Dumbass,_ he chided himself. 

Even beneath the blanket, he could smell food, his stomach equal parts queasy and interested, and Luka knew he couldn’t hide here forever. He had to man up and face the music. Literally, apparently. 

Luka sat up slowly, pushing his blanket off, and then opted for honorable procrastination in the form of dragging himself into his bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. If he was going to have to grovel and find a way to pretend he hadn’t meant all those things his dumb drunk ass said last night, he at least wanted the small dignity of smelling decent. He owed Marinette big time after this. It was probably thanks to her pushing water and food on him all night that he didn’t feel worse than he did. He paused on the way to swallow the pills and down the glass of water Marinette had left on his nightstand. It didn’t help his stomach but his head didn’t hurt as much by the time he was out of the shower. 

Luka debated putting on real clothes but opted for sweatpants and an ancient t-shirt. It wasn’t like Marinette hadn’t seen him looking worse. 

Finally he took a deep breath and made his way out to the living room. He could see Marinette in his little kitchen, the counter piled with food and ingredients. Luka winced; she must have gotten up earlier and gone shopping. There was no way he had this much, or this _kind_ , of food on hand. 

Her phone was on the counter, the music—his music—blaring through the bluetooth speakers he’d long ago given her access to. 

“I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you,” she sang, bobbing slightly as she transferred food to the plates she had ready. “Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo…” 

Luka couldn’t help a smile. He’d covered and recorded the song for her birthday, teasingly telling her he that couldn’t stand to listen to the original anymore, but that was a lie. Luka had wide-ranging music taste and could appreciate even things he wouldn’t necessarily seek out on his own. Mostly, he just wanted to sing it for her. He’d recognized her singing it when he woke up; either she had it on repeat or her playlist had cycled in the time it took him to get cleaned up.

“By the way, by the way, you do things to my boooodEEEEK!” Marinette gasped and dropped the plate she was holding. Luka watched calmly as the shatter-resistant dish (that he’d bought on purpose because a surprising number of people he loved had a tendency to break things) cracked into several large shards. “Damn it, Luka,” she sighed, looking at the mess. “You startled me.” 

“Sorry. I’ll get it,” he said quickly, moving to pick up the pieces. His head reeled when he bent over though, sending him to his knees, and Marinette shoved him back as she crouched down instead. 

“No, I got it,” she murmured, not looking him in the eye, and Luka bit the inside of his cheek, feeling a flush of shame. He pulled his hands back and leaned back, intending to sit on his heels but falling back on his ass instead. Folding his legs under him like he meant to do that, he raked both hands through his hair and sighed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, as Marinette cleaned up the mess. “About last night. So, so sorry, Marinette, I was petty, and mean, and I said a bunch of really unnecessary things, and I swear I don’t—”

“Stop,” Marinette ordered, dumping the broken plate in the trash, along with the remains of the omelette that had been on it. Luka winced and shut his mouth and his eyes, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

Small, warm hands pushed his away and slender but strong fingers began massaging his temples and forehead. He leaned into her touch with a little moan. 

“How do you feel?” Marinette asked gently. 

Luka gave a lopsided smile, eyes still closed. “Like I don’t deserve this. It sure feels good though.” 

Marinette sighed, her breath wafting over his face. “Can you eat?” 

“A Marinette hangover special?” Luka’s grin widened. “Definitely. If there’s any left.” 

“There is,” Marinette told him, amusement in her voice. “I always make plenty. Sorry about the dish though.” Her fingers slid down to gently cup his face. Luka opened his eyes, to find he was looking into hers. Her beautiful, stunning eyes that still took his breath even after all these years. They looked red-rimmed and tired, though, and a stab of guilt went through him. 

_Needle and the thread, gotta get you outta my head, get you outta my head_

Luka cringed at his own voice coming from the speakers. “Did you have to keep that one?” he asked plaintively. “I made you a better one.” 

“I know,” Marinette giggled. “But I like this one. It’s the first one you made for me.” 

“The quality is shit,” Luka grunted. He’d recorded it on his phone on the boat, on his acoustic back when they were teenagers. The boat hull gave it a weird hollow sound, and in a couple of places he’d gotten too loud and blown out the mic so that it sounded all staticy, and the p’s popped _awfully_ , and he didn’t even know how she could stand to listen to that song because the whole reason he’d made her the cover was because she was playing the song nonstop as she mourned her breakup with—and he’d wanted to do something, anything to help— 

Marinette’s lips pressed to the wrinkle in his forehead, snapping him out of his thoughts. “It has sentimental value. Go sit at the table, I’ll bring out the food.”

Luka got up off the floor, swaying only slightly, and dragged himself to his small table. Marinette brought him a loaded plate, bacon piled beside the spinach omelet, sliced banana arranged on the other side. Luka avoided the bacon for the moment, going after the banana first, and then nibbling cautiously at the omelet. Marinette slid a plate of avocado toast and sliced french bread drizzled with honey over to him, and he ate a slice of each obediently. 

“Why is this so good when I feel so crappy?” he muttered.

"Science,” Marinette informed him, and he cracked a smile. 

“You didn’t have to stay,” Luka said after a moment. “Not that I don’t appreciate this, but…well. You didn’t have to.” 

Marinette glanced up at him and then seemed to consider her words for a moment. “I guess I was hoping...maybe you had some things to tell me this morning.” 

His fork froze halfway to his mouth as he stared at her, remembering the way she’d held him last night. What’s she’d said in his ear as he nearly dozed off on her. 

_Tell me that again when you’re sober_.

She held his gaze, taking a deliberately dainty bite of honey-drizzled bread, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop off her lip. Luka swallowed, wondering wildly if she would taste like honey if he kissed her.

“M-maybe I do,” he mumbled, and then took a too large bite of omelet. He stared at his plate as he chewed, not even tasting it as his body went cold and then hot and a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him that he didn’t think had anything to do with the hangover. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. 

He glanced up to see Marinette still watching him. 

“Well,” she said, blushing and looking down at her own plate with a self-deprecating smile that he found much too adorable. “I promise if you do, I won’t run away this time.” 

There was a beat of silence as he stared at her and she stared at her plate, and then he mumbled, “Good to know,” and took another bite, trying not to smile too broadly while inside he was screaming like a teenage girl. 

**Author's Note:**

> Almost forgot to add in the songs. 
> 
> [Lost in Stereo, All Time Low](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWi3KOKWJIM)  
> [Starving, Hailee Steinfeld](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwjwCFZpdns) (although I like [this cover by Costellar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztKkP53hUkQ) personally)  
> [Stitches, Shawn Mendes ft Hailee Steinfeld](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TObtwHlfLFk)


End file.
